


Mine

by hawkeblocke



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Connoline, F/M, One Shot, Sexual Tension, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 11:08:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkeblocke/pseuds/hawkeblocke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perhaps she needed it, wanted it as much as he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mine

**Author's Note:**

> So I caved like a bitch. Written on my iPod so please excuse mistakes please do your best to ignore them. I try to ensure that they are few and far between but I'm not always that successful.

There was a bitter taste like bile in the back of his throat. He blamed it on the Colonial booze in his hand, and resolved to leave it sit at the table after that first drink. In truth, Connor never understood a man's need to take leave of his wits, or spend their days in a tavern. 

But Aveline did, as did the man who served as her target. That was why he was here. 

Something about the female assassin made his blood run hot and his fingers dance restlessly on the tabletop. He was not a stranger to biological needs, or the beauty of women, but to pass it off so quickly as one of these things did not do the French American girl justice. It went beyond a physical urge or want, he was sure. 

Never had he felt so… possessive. 

So as he sat in the dark corner of the inn, watching Aveline de Grandpré seduce her target into his grave, he fought the urge to take her to some dark ally and make her _his_. Because he was not an animal. He was not the savage these white people claimed him the be. And Aveline was not his to take. 

He was here to protect her, should things go a-rye. Or, that was what she had said. Connor was not so certain of that, he saw the way she fought. He thought this more of a test to see how he did sitting back and watching. He did not like sitting idly, he would rather fight, feel  alive with the blood pumping through his veins. 

There were rooms upstairs, and that was where the man was taking her now. Once again, Connor had to resist dragging her upstairs, tasting her lips, her skin, feeling her under his hands, watching her… watching her…

Connor growled, pushing off the table on stiff legs. This was going to be the death of him, but somehow, the thought of taking something that wasn't his only seemed to excite him more. He followed slowly, up the stairs, to the far end where the couple disappeared into a room, closing the door behind them. 

It took a moment later for him to hear a muffled gasp that went to his groin- he thought that maybe later when his head was clearer he would realize it had probably been the man's scream, but in his current state, it sounded much different- and the door opened. Another moment and he was blocking the doorway, Aveline's face pulled into a mixture of shock and uncertainty, be he was unsure if he had any control over his body anymore. "Is it done?" He heard himself ask, but he could not remember his mouth forming the words. 

Aveline nodded warily, and Connor found his eyes following the path her fingers took as they rested against the rim of the door. For a moment, he found his head again, and briefly he wondered if the look in her eye was fear, or a warning, but then it was gone and he was stepping in and closing the door and the last thing he heard from his mouth before it was on hers was a growled out "good," and all of his senses were gone and the only thing that was running through his mind was the feel of her lips. 

He felt the light pressure of her hands on his arms, his shoulders, his chest, pushing him until his back touched the door, and then she was kissing him back, just as eagerly, so that when they parted Connor was left breathless and wanting more. His hands found her hips and he pulled her to him, twisting so that he could pin her against the door. 

" _Si il aime la vie dure,_ " it came out as a breathless chuckle from the French woman's mouth, and Connor could only manage a growl in reply, claiming her mouth again so as to stop her from taunting him further. 

"Mine," against her lips, her jaw, her throat and neck, her shoulder, over and over again, because it was the only English word he could muster, and he said it so often it sounded more like a prayer than a word. 

But it had its effect anyway, and Connor felt like he was going to go mad if her moans continued to go straight to his member as it strained against his trousers. 

Only when he dipped lower to run kisses along her collar bone did she take hold of his face and drag it back up to her own, but instead of kissing him, she stared into his eyes, her own clouded and dark. "Not yet, _mon chere_ ,"

Another growl, and again Connor kissed her lips, prying her mouth open until he could slip his tongue inside to taste her more completely. A groan was ripped from his throat when Aveline's hand went between them to grip at his erection through the fabric of his trousers, and a smile stretched her kiss-swollen lips.

Neither of them could breathe quite enough to speak, but there was no mistaking the mischievous glint in her eyes as she fondled him- and the first clear thought he could muster was that they had too many layers of clothing keeping him from truely feeling her mold against him, a thought that was evidently shared, as Aveline made quick work of his weapons, fingers moving expertly from one latch and buckle to the next.

Connor lifted her, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he backed into the room, nearly tripping over the once forgotten corpse, but by then his lips had found hers again and her couldn't have cared to break apart to dispose of it.

He dropped her on the bed, slightly thrown off by her bareness when the last thing he remembered was her in her dress helping him pull off his coat. Connor watched as Aveline sat back on her knees, grabbing his hips so that his own rested against the mattress, and one of his hands gripped the back of her neck to bring his mouth to hers as the other fumbled to remove ther rest of her clothing. Aveline's own hands were working furiously at his belt, so that the only thing he was wearing were those damned pants (he must have lost his boots to the chaos of the room, though he could not for the life of him remember ever kicking them off), and then even those were pulled down to pool at his ankles. Aveline's tongue darted out to wet her lips when her eyes met his, that mischief never leaving them. It left a shiver running down his spine, a heat pooling in his gut until he felt he might explode from the frustration. And then finally, her eyes trailed down his body, and he could _feel_ her gaze as it raked across his chest, traveling lower until they rested on his cock. 

The first touch of skin on skin sent an electric bolt running down his spine as he crawled overtop of her, guiding her so that her back hit the mattress, and as his lips descended upon hers, they could never seem to stay in one place, his tongue darting out to discover if her skin tasted as sweet as it looked. He could not have complained if it hadn't, Aveline's skin was soft and supple under his hands, masking the hard muscle that rested just beneath the surface. 

She gasped when his lips closed around a nipple, her fingers threading through his hair as he suckled, his other hand coming up to grasp the other between his thumb and forefinger. Connor chanced a glance up at her face as he twisted and was rewarded handsomely with a moan, her body twisting and writhing under his attentions. And he hadn't even reached that wonderful little spot between her thighs. 

And it didn't look like he was going to at any rate, not with Aveline's agenda. Connor's back met the bed so suddenly it made his head spin, and before he could fully grasp what had happened, Aveline was straddling his waist and kissing him so deeply he was positive he would forget how to breathe. He growled, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth and biting it to elicit another whimpering moan from her before soothing the abused flesh with his tongue. Connor hissed through gritted teeth when Aveline bit down on his neck, another growl ripped from his throat, and he gripped her waist in an attempt to regain some control, but before he could Aveline pushed him back against the bed. "Down, boy,"

And then she was crawling down his body, tasting his skin as he had done moments before. It was Connor's turn to gasp when her nails grated down his chest, leaving angry raised furrows in their wake. The pain was fleeting, however, and Connor was more worried about the neglected length of his cock, and whether or not Aveline was going to make him suffer much longer. 

Aveline continued her slow, tantalizing path down his body, placing open-mouthed kisses and tracing scars down his chest, his stomach, his waist, his hips, until she took him in hand and _twisted_. Not hard, not painfully, but _fuck_ it felt good, too good. He groaned, hips canting up into her hand, his whole body thrumming in desperation for that delicious friction those chocolate fingers provided, until that heat became so intense he was sure to explode, until his head swam and more than one vulgarity had left his mouth in a string of curses that was sure to leave Aveline flustered and blushing, had she the means to understand them. 

And that was all Connor was going to take. He grasped her arms, pulling her up so that she was laying atop his chest, kissing her just as deeply as she'd done before, rolling them over, pushing her legs open so he could rest between them comfortably. All it would take was one thrust, and he would be filling her… making her writhe and moan underneath him… but he hesitated. He had never meant for it to go this far… had never meant to…

Connor cupped her cheek. "Aveline, I…"

"Oh, _pour l'amour du Christ_ , Connor, fuck me."

Perhaps she needed it, wanted it as much as he did, because the next thing he knew her hand was darting in between them, guiding him inside of her with a sharp gasp coming from them both. Connor gripped the blankets so hard his knuckles were white with the effort to remain still, to give her time to adjust to him, to give _himself_ time to adjust to the feeling of being in her. Slowly, he pushed into her completely, head dropping to the crook of her neck with a groan.

Her hand had felt good, but nothing compared to the slick heat of her walls as they pulsed around his throbbing length, and with each thrust he felt the heat build so intensely he was unsure how long he could last before he found his release. But her moans, her whimpers made it all worth it. Aveline dug her nails into his shoulders, raking them down his back when he hit a particular spot, and with each thrust that came after he tried to find that spot again, hips loosing all sense of rhythm, with Aveline so close behind, if the way she was bucking up to meet his thrusts was anything to go by. 

His release hit him like a brick wall, as Aveline tightened around him with a scream that he swallowed in a kiss, and he spilled inside of her moments after with one, final thrust. Connor groaned, collapsing on top of her, just barely able to hold himself up on his elbows so as not to crush her under his weight. 

He did not know how long they lay there, like that, just listening to each other's  breathing, even after it had calmed, but when Connor finally mustered up the strength to roll off, he shivered at the loss of contact. 

Neither of them spoke, and only when he felt Aveline snuggle up against his side, when he wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her closer, long after she was sleeping on his chest, only then did he remember the body on the floor. 

**Author's Note:**

> so I'll admit that this is my first time writing smut and… Jesus I have no idea what I'm getting myself into.
> 
> So today I went and proofread the work and made some minute changes and, hopefully, it should go a lot more smoothly.


End file.
